


Shed Your Skin and Expose Your Bones

by blarfshnorgull



Series: the embrace that smothers [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Church Route, Implied Sexual Content, Obsessive Behavior, Self-Destruction, Self-Sabotaging Behaviors, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, ambiguously during the timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26221558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarfshnorgull/pseuds/blarfshnorgull
Summary: Edelgard has always been alone. She always expected to be abandoned by her professor and classmates, but the betrayal still burns.She doesn’t know if Sylvain will be any different.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Series: the embrace that smothers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904332
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31





	Shed Your Skin and Expose Your Bones

**Author's Note:**

> So it’s not 100% necessary to read the previous fic to understand this. All you need to know is that Sylvain ditched everyone else for Edelgard bc she told him about her siblings.
> 
> I always thought that there was something fascinating about Edelgard on silver snow. Like she’s so afraid to be alone, and on silver snow she genuinely is alone because none of the beagles join her at all (also the Byleth thing).
> 
> I just... really want to explore how actually being abandoned by everyone else makes her feel.
> 
> As always, massive shoutout to my beta, newmrsdewinter who somehow manages to wrangle my wips into some semblance of order lol.

It’s far past midnight when Edelgard hears a knock on her office door.

She ignores it.

Only two people could possibly be at her door at this hour, and Hubert doesn’t knock.

She doesn’t have the time for him right now. Or possibly ever. She can’t afford any distractions, especially personal ones.

The knock comes again, sharper and more insistent. Edelgard ignores it again, holding her quill in a useless grip. She knows she won’t get anymore work done with him around, but she’ll try. The door opens, light pouring into the room, but she tries to block it out. Block _him_ out.

The sound of his footsteps echo through the room, inching closer and closer until he’s directly behind her. His hands extend over the arms of her chair, looming ever closer to Edelgard. She wants to take hold of his hands and never let go, force him to never abandon her.

But that would be weakness. She brought him to her side for a purpose, to fight for her empire. Not whatever _this_ is.

“You didn’t answer,” Sylvain says softly, his voice brushing the shell of her ear. She knows what he’s doing, and it won’t work on her.

“That was intentional.”

“Aww c’mon.” She isn’t looking at him but the smirk is plain from his tone. It’s her least favorite part of him. “Don’t be like that.”

His hands snake over her midsection in the shadow of an embrace. “Here I was worried that my dear emperor had fallen asleep at her desk, overworking her poor, tired heart out. But I see I was worked up over nothing.” His words drip like honey, as insincere as they are cloyingly sweet. She’d prefer the poison that spills from his lips instead. It’s more real.

Edelgard sets her quill down, and puts her walls up.

“You were.”

His arms retract, leaving her cold. It’s what she expects, what she _wanted_ , yet it leaves her longing.

“I saw candlelight. You could have caught fire. Who knows what Hubert would’ve done to me then!” His tone is jovial, but the cracks are already forming. If she pushes harder he’ll leave her.

Just like everyone else.

She finally turns to face him. His facade is firmly in place, smiling far too wide and with a tone too lighthearted to feel genuine. Frustration begins to simmer, but she smothers it. 

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

He grins harder, straining and fake. She’s sure some women find it charming, but she despises that expression. “Only if it’ll get you to bed faster.”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting myself to bed.”

“And yet here you are.”

Edelgard sighs, submitting to his whims. She pushes the chair back, and Sylvain moves with her, giving an exaggerated flourish at her relenting. She rises from where she’s seated, walking past him completely.

She stops at the opened door, shooting a sidelong glance at Sylvain, and nothing more. 

“Are you satisfied now?”

He follows her, as naturally as breathing. Like a shadow clinging to her every step, meaningless without her. It’s an unfortunately true statement with how much he gave up for her sake, and yet she can’t help the doubt that rears its head. 

_Is he really loyal to me?_

He extends his hand towards her, and her fears threaten to consume her. “What man in their right mind could be satisfied before he sees his lovely princess off to her room?”

_Will he pick me? Even if I’m not what he thinks I am?_

The betrayal from her classmates and professor still burns. She wants to strike his hand away, and demand he cut out his lying tongue. He _will_ leave her. It’s inevitable; she’s always meant to be alone. Despite how much he pretends to care, Edelgard knows better than to fall for the trick of companionship.

But she can’t stand the lonely coldness, and he’s the only one who can understand. He’s the only connection she has left, even if it is destined to fall apart.

She takes his hand, and nothing more. “Need I remind you that I am your emperor?”

His expression flickers, but it passes just as quickly as it came.

“Yeesh, always so serious.”

He guides her through the empty halls, letting her trail behind him like a specter looming over him. After all, she’s just one ghost of many; the palace is riddled with them. Hubert and Sylvain’s hands carve out more ghosts for her everyday, and one day the palace will be so awash with blood they’ll be too busy drowning to haunt these halls.

But not today.

Sylvain says nothing as he leads her through the night. It’s a far cry from his normal behavior of nonsensical small talk, where he feigns kindness and caring. Edelgard knows who the real Sylvain is, she knows exactly how masks to hide pain and anger work.

Something cold lingers around him, something _real._ Something she brought out in him.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Edelgard comments, shattering the silence.

His eyes flick back towards her for a brief moment. It’s barely an acknowledgement, but she feels herself shiver from the intensity.

But the cold atmosphere melts away far sooner than Edelgard expects. “Just enjoying your company.” 

_Liar._

Anger burns into her at his facade slipping back into place. Every smile, every kind word is a lie. She needs the real Sylvain.

She tightens her grip on his hand, almost painfully so. “Don’t bother with needless flattery.”

“Believe or not, Edelgard,” he starts stiffly, “you’re the only person here whose company I actually enjoy.”

The lie is insulting, appalling, even. She has to resist the childish urge to rip her hand away from his. She wants to tear him apart, remind him who he really is. Remind him that his mask has no place by her side, not when she knows him.

So, she starts peeling away his layers.

“I’ve seen what you get up to around here. You ‘enjoy’ the company of a number of people other than myself.”

Sylvain lets out a chuckle, but is otherwise unaffected by her statement. He guides them from one hallway to the next as if they were dancing, effortlessly dodging the cuts she carves with her words. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

Edelgard glares a hole into his back. How can he not understand? 

“And if I were?”

Sylvain scoffs, and it sends her closer to the edge.

Fire burns within Edelgard. It rages and threatens to consume them, but against all reason, she wants to pull him closer.

“Oh? I didn’t realize the idea of my attachment was so humorous to you.”

Sylvain laughs again. A rare and genuine laugh, one that Edelgard hears so rarely. It only fuels her fire. “That’s not what I was laughing at.”

“Oh?” Edelgard raises an eyebrow at his back. It’s a useless gesture at this angle, but her mask has burned away all the same. “Then what exactly did you find humorous?”

He slows to a halt, bringing her with him. In the stillness Edelgard realizes they’ve already reached her room. Sylvain hasn’t let her go yet. In fact, _his_ grip tightens around her.

“Oh, come on, Edelgard.” His words are light and teasing, but they’re disjointed. Like a broken music box, he continues his routine, off-putting but unable to stop. “There’s no way you’re jealous of me… _cavorting_ —”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

He lets go of her hand, and she allows it.

Sylvain sighs, running his now-free hand through his hair. He turns to finally look at Edelgard, his gaze piercing in its intensity. Just how she remembers it.

“Look, I know you don’t want me to fuck you.”

“So crass.” 

It has the exact effect Edelgard was hoping for. His eyes go frigid, and she burns for an entirely different reason.

“You know who I am, don’t act like it’s too much for you now.”

If Edelgard’s words were meant to cut, his were meant to eviscerate.

He flicks his eyes to the bedroom door beside him. Realization and defeat dawn on him as he lets out a sigh. His cold glare melts back into something approaching civil, but it’s a failed effort. His lips draw back into a tight line, straining his features.

“Anyways,” Sylvain says, trying to remain neutral, but venom seeps in despite his best efforts. “My work here is done. Please try to get some actual sleep, Your Majesty.”

Your Majesty. He hasn’t called her that since their days at the academy. Panic grips her heart. She wants the real Sylvain, the one that understands her, but she fears pushing him too far. She can’t let him go, but to let him get too close…

She wants him by her side. She wants someone who she can understand and trust. She wants to keep him at arm’s length to save herself from his inevitable abandonment. She wants to hold onto him and never let go no matter what he wants. She wants someone to serve her out of loyalty to what she believes in, and not to what she _is_. She wants someone to follow her because they understand why she walks this path.

She wants...

“You should come in.”

Sylvain blinks, his eyes going wide. He gapes comically, disbelief making him lose all sense of how he looked.

“Are… are you being serious?”

Edelgard ignores his question, stepping past him to reach for the handle of her door. She hears him sputter out a protest, but she enters her room regardless. 

She makes her way in, leaving the door open as an invitation. He doesn’t follow her, but she doesn’t have to look to know. She can feel the emptiness of where he should be.

Slowly, she turns to face him. The distance between them isn’t so great, but it’s enough for her to feel the cold and familiar sting of loneliness return. He stares at her, dumbfounded, and she raises her chin in an unspoken challenge.

Sylvain’s expression clouds. It contorts into confusion, and then something pained. “What am I to you?”

“You of all people should know that by now.”

He clenches his fists by his side, his knuckles going white. His gaze pierces her, icy rage and agony warring together in a perfect symphony.

“I don’t think you know what you want from me.”

Edelgard extends her hand to the topmost button of her shirt, maintaining eye contact with Sylvain. Slowly, painfully, like a marionette forced to act against its will, she undoes the first button. She trails her hand lower, the action stifled and stilted. She undoes the next button, feeling ages pass in only a second.

Sylvain’s expression falls, confusion replacing the previous intensity. Edelgard feels fear threatening her composure once again. The disgusting fear of how her painfully precise scars, too cleanly cut to be anything but deliberate, would look to an onlooker. They’re no longer visible, but the memories burn like brands on her skin.

With all the strength of being forced to claw her way out of the mud, she painstakingly makes her way to the next button. And the next. And the next. Until only one remains. Her hands shake, just slightly, but she can’t ignore it.

Just like she can’t ignore the phantasms of her long-since-healed scars

The last button frees itself, and Edelgard’s shirt falls to the floor like a weight threatening to crush her.

She meets his gaze, but it’s not as strong as she hoped. She fights to keep her voice still, refusing to show weakness. She can’t look weak; she’s not some scared little girl.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

“I do.”

Sylvain closes the door behind him, and the shadows engulf them.

**Author's Note:**

> I should clarify that I do think they could probably make this work out in a non ss route. I just think that losing everyone, especially those that she opened up to, would make her trust issues rear their head in a really ugly way.


End file.
